


These Cruel Deeds

by SamDellaMente



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cop AU, Crime, F/M, Serial Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2210466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamDellaMente/pseuds/SamDellaMente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly one year after serial murderer Kenny Ackerman was sentenced to death row, the killings begin again. Detectives Ral, Bossard, Jinn, and Schultz are assigned the case. While trying to catch the killer, Petra Ral finds her feelings for her short, abrasive neighbour - Levi. But is Levi everything he appears to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cup of latte-to-go in her hand, copper locks sprayed lazily over her shoulders, Detective Petra Ral approached the crowded crime scene, police tape sectioning the area off. Her partner walked at her side, scoffing at by passers as they stopped to snoop on the busy scene. Thankfully they were ushered along by police officers.

“Tch, about time,” the ash-blond haired detective at her side scoffed, “Bloody nosy people always wanting to get first look just for gossip.” Auruo rolled his eyes and lifted the bright yellow tape and held it up for her, waiting until she was through before following. Petra sipped from her cup as they were approached by Erd and Gunther, two other detectives on their sector.

“Looks like our victim’s cause of death was a cut throat,” Erd began, peeling off the rubber gloves that stuck to his hand, “There’s no other injuries, not even defensive wounds.”

“So he was either sedated or surprised. Guess we’ll figure that one out after the body’s been moved to the lab.” Auruo noted as they were led inside the house by Gunther.

The interior of the house was expensively furbished and well-kept with clearly a lot of effort put into it to make it look higher class and homely. Everything was in place; everything pristine. Nothing was out a place with no sign of a struggle.

“The perpetrator was welcomed in,” Petra mused, eyes scanning the front door and noting no signs of a break in, “That or he snuck in elsewhere and waited for our victim to return home.”

Gunther led the two to the body that was already surrounded by Crime Scene Investigators doing swabs or snapping photos for further examination.

The deceased man was positioned on a dining room chair in the centre of the living room, arms dangling down with his head angled back. Dried blood patches coated his neck and his lifeless eyes were wide open with a captured look of fear. There were no restraints that held him down.

“He must have been sedated,” Auruo mused as he examined the body, blue rubber gloves over his hands so as not to contaminate anything, “There aren’t any blood streaks from the body being dragged and who would willingly sit in such an ominous position? It just screams murder scene.”

“People are into some weird shit.” Gunther shrugged.

“So he sedates him, positions him here and cuts his throat.” Petra stood in front of the body as she pulled on the gloves, scanning the scene in front of her. “But what for; is the chair a stage and the murder is his own production?”

The other two hummed in thought.

“But where’s the blood splatter, though?” Auruo suddenly asked. His question caused silence to fall over the room bar the occasional murmurings of the Crime Scene Investigators and the clicking of cameras.

“Sometimes there isn’t always one.” Gunther spoke up after a while, dark brows furrowed as he stared at the body in the chair.

“As soon as CSIs are done, get this body back to Hanji for post-mortem. We can get more answers as soon as we know what’s exactly happened to this guy.” Petra sighed, “Come on, Auruo, we’ll examine the rest of the house.” She turned on her toes, ready to search the rest of the house for more evidence. But she was stopped by Gunther’s voice.

“Petra… doesn’t this remind you of-”

“Yes. It’s practically the same.”

That was all she said before walking to the next room, willing the graphic imagery of last year’s serial murders from her mind.

 

* * *

 

Her home was situated in the centre of a serene street; one would think it was family orientated but in fact there were no families which, although Petra enjoyed the sight of children playing happily, she was glad there wasn’t too much noise in the street for she led a busy life both at work and at home. When she wasn’t filing out reports at the office she was usually finishing them off at home.

The house she lived in wasn’t big. It was enough space for her to live in but it was only enough space for one person. She may as well have lived in an apartment similar to Auruo and Gunther but the apartment blocks in Sina weren’t as trustworthy as the housing estates were.

Sina was well known for its crime rate – as high as a kite, so to say – and despite being a cop, Petra wasn’t quite up for living in a high risk area. She liked living where she did.

She parked up onto her drive and got out of the car, glancing around the street with squinted eyes, sunlight beating down on her. At first she hadn’t noticed anyone out in the street but then she heard the familiar voice of one of her next door neighbours calling her name.

“Petra!”

A young girl with vibrant red hair jogged up to her with a smile as bright at the sun. Her short hair was tied into low bunches and she could easily resemble a child, but she was a fully grown woman. Isabel Magnolia was definitely no child.

She was dressed in sport shorts and a tank top, with trainers and short socks on her feet, sweat beading on her forehead. It was then when Petra noticed Isabel’s brother a few steps behind her, also in work out gear.

“Have the two of you been running again?” Petra asked as she pulled case files out from the front seat of her car, settling them in her arms.

“Yeah – it’s summer so we’ve got to get those beach bodies, right?” Isabel joked, made obvious by the burst of laughter afterwards. “Nah, I’m kidding. Big brother wanted to relieve some stress and what better way than to go running with me, eh?” The red haired grinned, turning back to flash it to her brother.

Her brother was a slightly older man in his late twenties with dark locks that sweep against his forehead, yet is cut short at the back in the style of an undercut. His eyes were grey and intimidating to some yet Petra didn’t find them that way; perhaps because she’d lived next door to him for a few years now and she’d come to know him. He was small in height – not much taller than her – but he had a fine, muscular build. The green tank top he wore showed his defined biceps which she found herself staring at whenever she could (and that was a lot, because he went jogging practically every night in the same attire – cleaned, of course).

“Oi, big brother! It’s fun running with me, isn’t it?”

“Tch.” He scoffed and was inside his house in a matter of seconds.

Isabel rolled her eyes, dramatically turning her head back to Petra. “Well Farlan’s making that stew he’s been promising for weeks now – you wanna join us? He won’t mind. In fact, he asked me to invite you.”

Petra isn’t surprised by the offer. In fact, she often had dinner with the family that live next door because they were close. They all considered Petra to be a really good friend, and she was glad about that because it meant living alone wasn’t completely lonely.

“Sure – just let me go put these down and get changed then I’ll be right over.” Petra gave the girl in front of her a warm smile before heading into her house. She set the case files on the table and dashed up into her room, not wanting to make her neighbours wait too long for her.

Petra freed herself from the black trousers and tight fitting purple blouse and changed into a loose summery dress that finished just above her knees. The yellow fabric was soft against her skin and allowed her to move more freely. She brushed through her hair, ridding the short copper locks of any knots they’ve gathered up during the day, and as soon as she was ready she slipped on flat shoes and left the house, crossing the lawn to go next door.

 

* * *

 

Stood bent over in front of the sink, Levi cupped his hands under the sink and splashed the freezing cold water onto his face, eyes squeezing shut. The coldness of the water sent shivers through his body, cooling down his muscles. His eyes, bloodshot from exhaustion, shot towards the door as the handle rattled.

“Uuugh, Levi, get your ass out of there! I need to use the bathroom.” Isabel whined, her voice slightly muffled by the wooden door that blocked them. Levi was glad the door was locked – more than glad, actually, relieved. He grumbled something about not being long and waited until he heard fading footsteps before heaving a sigh. He rubbed his eyes and stared in the mirror.

His usual pale complexion looked even more ghastly, despite the redness that had built up during his run. His shoulders were shrugged back and he looked even smaller than he actually was. Grey, stone eyes were still sharp and intimidating but the whites of his eyes were lined with red, the skin under his eyes drooping into bags, painted with dark circles.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle late nights. No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that he was worried or stressed. No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that he’d never committed such acts before. But it was different. It wasn’t for money or for hate. It was a message.

Levi grabbed the towel from the rack on the side and patted his face dry, hanging it back up tidily before switching off the tap. He sorted his hair, straightening it up before leaving the room, thin brows pulled into a frown.

“Oh! Hey.” That familiar sweet voice tore his eyes from the ground to the face of the woman who stood in front of him, her delicate features holding his gaze for only a moment before he forced himself to look elsewhere. Petra’s bright smile brought warmth to his heart he couldn’t explain – or more like he didn’t _want_ to explain – and he didn’t want to risk losing his composure.

But that wasn’t the only reason Levi couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye. She was a cop; it was obvious what would happen if she knew.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner wasn’t very eventful, but Levi was glad for that. She didn’t suspect a thing – or if she did then she didn’t let on. He was thankful she spent most of the meal listening to Isabel witter on or discussing the recipe of the stew with Farlan. Little words were shared between himself and Petra until after dinner. Perhaps it was his fault for initiating conversation but he couldn’t deny he _wanted_ to talk to her.

“Beer?” He offered and held the brown bottle out to her but she shook her head at the offer and gave that warm, friendly smile of hers that made his stone orbs soften for some reason he knew not.

“I can’t, I have a case file to look over later.” Petra stated and made herself comfortable on the sofa; Isabel insisted she stayed a while longer to give herself a break before returning to case files.

A chuckle, which wouldn’t have arisen – or at least would have been strained – were it anyone else, left his lips. “You wouldn’t want to be doing that with alcohol in your system.” He pointed out and took the seat beside her yet left a modest gap. He noticed the way she turned and angled herself which resulted in her being closer to him. He wondered – hoped, almost – she did that on purpose.

“No, definitely not, who knows what I’d work out with a drunken brain.” There it was – that sweet laugh of hers; the one that drove him crazy and he didn’t even know why. Isabel often joked of him having feelings for his copper haired neighbour but he denied each allegation, He liked her but in a friendly manner. He didn’t have a crush on her, he didn’t fancy her, he didn’t _love_ her. No, no he didn’t.

Yet he was disappointed when she went home, even though there was some relief of seeing the back of her head. He didn’t need to worry about her discovering the truth…

 

* * *

 

“Kenny Ackerman: fifty one years old. No family we know of but that doesn’t always mean he has none.” Erd heaved a sigh and dropped the case file on his desk.

“I’ll run his DNA through the system, something might come up.” Auruo stated through a mumble and got straight to work, wheeling over to his desk on the chair.

“If it’s a copycat it’s someone who knows his crimes inside out,” Gunther murmured in thought.

“So we’ll check visiting records – our guy probably visited him numerous times.” Erd mused and, like his colleague had before, swivelled over to his computer on his chair.

“We also need to consider the alternative that it’s not a copycat and this just happened to be a coincidence.” Gunther pointed out as approaching footsteps sounded in the room, and a small copper haired figure slid in through the partially opened door.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence,” Petra started and set the cup of warm and freshly made coffee down on her desk, “Exactly one year ago yesterday Kenny Ackerman was sentenced to death row.” She explained and shrugged off the cream jacket that hugged her shoulders and set it over the back of her chair.

“But if our guy wanted to make a statement, wouldn’t he start on the execution date?” Erd theorised, his eyes not leaving the computer screen as his fingers tapped away at the keyboard.

Gunther shook his head. “Not necessarily – if his aim was to push back the date of the execution then he’d start a few days beforehand.”

“Then maybe it isn’t that at all. Perhaps he’s trying to grab Ackerman’s attention.” Petra mused and leaned against her desk, her arms crossed against the black button up shirt she wore. “It wouldn’t be worth asking him questions yet. If any more of these murders come up and we have a serial on our hands, then we’ll go visit him.” Her voice was stern as she took her seat. “But for now, we’re going nowhere near Kenny Ackerman.”

 

* * *

 

**_One year and three weeks ago._ **

Kenny Ackerman is a cold man; there’s not an inch of remorse in his body and there’s a wicked smile that lines his thin lips and this puts Petra on edge. She thinks if the devil was a person, it would be him. Yes, she’s faced criminals before, stared murderers in the eye without so much as blinking. But none of them sent a chill down her spine like this one does.

He sits still in the chair in the interview room – no idly playing with fingers, no bouncing of a leg, no muscles twitching. He’s terrifyingly still, staring through the one-way mirror. The detectives stood behind it could feel his glare upon them, as if he were digging into them and revealing their unease with his eyes. He couldn’t even see them yet he was pulling them apart, unravelling the strings of their composures, scratching away the hard exteriors they put on when facing criminals.

Kenny Ackerman is no ordinary criminal.

An hour has passed since they arrested the man and brought him in for questioning – they’re playing with their timing, testing his limits. So far, it seems he has none. Perhaps that will change, but for now it’s time to go in and question him. They’ll try not to play into his hands so they’ll have to be careful with how they word their questions, how they present themselves. Showing any anger or frustration will only help him win, so they decide to send in their most patient detective.

Petra carries the case file into the small room with her and takes the seat opposite Kenny Ackerman. She can feel his gaze on her, his small and dark eyes piercing through her confident mask as if he were trying to remove it and reveal the fear he puts into her; the fear he puts into the entire team. She opens the case file and skims over his information page, as if she knows very little about him, as if she hasn’t studied whatever background was on the system.

“Kenny Ackerman… Age fifty… Lives alone, no family.” Her gaze lifts up to him, making eye contact despite not wanting to; she has to in order to establish he isn’t the one in control. “Is that correct?”

“Yes.” His voice is like sandpaper and not something she wants to hear again, but she has no choice.

“Okay, can you tell –”

“Are the photographs of my crimes in that file?” His head angles to the side ever so slightly.

_Don’t lose authority,_ she mentally tells herself. She’s prepared to handle any kind of question he could ask, or for any kind of answer he could give. But they don’t know his pride over his crimes. He hadn’t taunted the detectives throughout their investigation but he hadn’t made a cry for help. He just got on with his business.

“Yes, they are.” Her answer came only a second later, determined to show no hesitation.

“You’ve seen them, then.” It’s a statement.

“Of course, it’s my job.” Her response is casual, feigning relaxation.

“If you’ve seen the photos then you don’t need to ask me any questions. Everything you need to know is in the crime – don’t you know that? As a detective, Miss Ral, I’m pretty sure you should.”

Her brows furrow at the mention of her name – he hasn’t been told, so unless he’s done his research, he shouldn’t know their names. They made sure not to tell him at any point; it was supposed to be part of the power play.

“How do you –”

“How do I know your name? I’m not an idiot, Detective – ah, that’s something else you should know.” A smirk grows on his face and it’s the most unsettling thing she’s seen in her life. “I know all of you. Behind that window no doubt is the head of the team, Detective Erwin Smith, am I right? And then there’s the rest of your team: Jinn, Schultz, and Bossard. I even know the forensics that work with you.” He sees the horror in her face and his fuels him but he stops, easily able to counter any game they’re playing. “I could go on. Would you like me to?”

Petra tries not to let it bother her but by now her shoulders have dropped and her gaze shifts to the security camera in the room, almost a cry for help hidden in her eyes. But of course, he sees it.

“My, my, have I put you on edge?” His voice is cold and not something she wants to put up with anymore.

Seemingly her pleads are answered when the door opens and an infuriated Erwin Smith steps in. His eyes are trained on Kenny Ackerman but his first words are directed at her.

“Ral. Out.” He orders and she doesn’t hesitate to follow them, trembling fingers collecting the case file. She leaves the room swiftly and the last thing she hears before the door slams shut is Kenny’s laugh – so sinister it rings in her ears and plays in her head over and over again.

 

* * *

 

**Current day**

Five o’clock rolled round and they’d learnt nothing about the new killer on their radar. Not a single person had visited Kenny in prison during the past year and it was definite he had no family – his son died several years ago but there was nothing on file about him.

Petra parked on her drive and leaned back in the car seat, bringing her hands to her face to rub her exhausted eyes. She dropped her hands and stared blankly out the front window, the white garage door being the only sight. It took a few minutes before she actually got out of the car, files in her hand as she walked to the door.

On the garden beside hers with a hose in his hand – although by this point he wasn’t focusing on where he directed the nozzle spraying water onto well-looked after plants – Levi watched the way she walked down the tiny path from the car to her front door. He could easily see by the way her shoulders were slumped and the lack of real expression on her face that something was wrong. And he could guess what it was but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

“Don’t drown the geraniums, Levi.” Farlan’s voice came from behind him – a tone that not only worried for the sake of his flowers but one that hinted he knew why Levi had soaked the poor things.

Levi only rolled his eyes and directed the hose to another plant and most likely proceeded to drown that one in water as well. His eyes still lingered on the copper haired woman who searched for her keys through her bag. He should have known Farlan was watching him stare, and he definitely should have known he’d say something about it.

“Why don’t you just go speak to her? It’s not like she’s a stranger, we’ve known her long enough and we’re all friends.”

“Tch.”

“Just – ugh, go speak to her before you ruin the sweet peas.”

Levi didn’t even say anything. He twisted the nozzle on the hose and dropped it to the ground, not thinking twice about marching across the garden and onto Petra’s lawn, the sound of Farlan’s protests in the background.

“My sweet peas!”

Just as his neighbour found the keys and slotted them into the door he stepped up at her side, his features expressionless as usual.

“Petra.” Her name came out in a flat tone.

Even though she usually enjoyed the sound of her name coming from his lips, she jumped in surprise, having not even realised he was there.

“Fffu-” She stopped herself before such profanity left her and she let out a long breath instead, her head turning slightly to look at the man who’d suddenly showed up beside her. “Levi, hi.”

He noted the seemingly fed up tone to her voice and this made his brows furrow in concern.

“You look worn out.” He stated as bluntly as ever.

A light huff of air that could have been classed as a partial laugh escaped her and she nodded. “That’s because I am.”

“Get inside and sit down.” Levi ordered and slid into the open door without another word and so much as an invitation inside. He marched straight to the kitchen and searched through the cupboards after filling the kettle with water.

Petra was too tired to be surprised by his actions – although, even if she were wide awake she couldn’t say she’d be _that_ shocked – and instead she followed his orders. After dropping her bag somewhere in the hallway and setting the case files on the dining room table, she plopped down on the sofa and rubbed her eyes. If he was planning to sit and ask her about what was bothering her she’d have to be very vague with her answers; they were planning to keep what they had on the case so far on a down low. Newspapers would have reported a murder but communications liaisons ensured the press didn’t know the nature of the crime, the mode of operations or even the victim’s name. They needed to be sure of a few more details before they announced anything to the public and that meant she couldn’t tell Levi why she was the way she was; why she felt tired and frustrated at the same time.

He entered the room a few minutes later with a mug of tea in his hands which he carefully handed her to avoid any spilling and scolding her lap – which definitely wouldn’t put him in her good books.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asked, his tone wavering with concern instead of his usual flat syllables. It was a stupid question to ask because he fucking knew what was wrong, but he had some hope that it wasn’t his fault.

“Stupid cases and…” Petra heaved a sigh and took the mug of tea, downing almost half the hot liquid in an attempt to relax, “Old cases popping up.”

He swallowed – he knew _exactly_ the case she meant.

As much as he wanted to offer her a form of comfort, he could not. Aside from his tendency to despise physical contact – even though something about her made him crave her touch – it wasn’t his place to do so when he was the cause of her stress, unknown to her.

“Take a break,” he said instead, “Rest for the night then look back at the case files with a fresh mind in the morning.” He knew looking with a clear mind would lead her to the correct answers and that would prove trouble for him but he didn’t want her to make herself ill while working through exhaustion.

“I plan on it – it’s been a long day with nothing happening.” She explained and this caught his attention.

“You’ll be working on the recent murder, won’t you?” Levi questioned although he already knew and shifted his position on the sofa but Petra was too tired to notice the slight change of behaviour.

“Yeah… You heard about it? Of course, everyone’s heard about it.” She scoffed and he just quirked a brow.

“Do you have any leads?” He asked in a simple tone, as if he was just making conversation but he genuinely wanted to know.

“No, and we have hardly any evidence. Results from the lab should be coming through tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll have something then.” Petra finished her drink. “I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff – you probably won’t care.” She laughed and shook her head as she stood up to take the mug into the kitchen.

“I don’t care – about the case, that is.” Levi started as he followed her, his thin brows furrowed slightly. “I care about you.”

Petra spun to face him, a surprised look on her face.

He suddenly realised how that sounded. “About your well-being, you know – not… Not what it sounded like.” He bit the inside of his cheek, wondering why the hell he was nervous. He saw how her face lit up as a giggle escaped her and for a moment her tiredness seemed to fade.

“I should go,” Levi mumbled and when she went to protest he shook his head, “It’s getting late –”

“No it’s not.”

“– And you need to rest. Goodnight, Petra.” Without another word, he left.

Levi stalked down the path and returned to his house, spotting Farlan still in the garden. He headed straight to his room and didn’t leave until the early hours of the morning, a black backpack slung over his shoulders, a determined expression on his darkened features.


End file.
